


G Rated

by Wimpy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: F/M, Klance Fluff Week 2017, Klance Week, M/M, Shallura Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wimpy/pseuds/Wimpy
Summary: 'When you care about someone', Keith thought to himself, 'and you also want to fuck them...but you want to punch them, too...what do you call that?'When Keith walked in on Lance, feelings had sparked, but now that Lance walked in on Keith, confused desire burns.IdeK maN liKe lAnce waLks iN ON KeiTh and he"sS like 'HeY thAt's kinDa hOt, daNM Keith U seXy we sHould ProbaBlY FuCk anD they MaEk ouT soMeTimes and tHers fEelingS and fLuFF anD soMe hOt seXy tIMessOrry I'm bAd at tHese sMmary thInGS I triED





	1. What do You Call This?

Lance was a man, there was no doubt about that. In _his_ opinion, he was an ideal man - suave, intellectual, undeniably handsome; a truly original stud...of course, this was _Lance’s_ opinion. Being such an incredibly invaluable man, as Lance was, it was of no surprise that he had needs. Manly needs. Manly needs that manly men such as Lance could simply not live without satisfying.

His beauty sleep was crucial, for one, and very, _very_ manly. As was his insistent insulting of Keith - asserting his dominance was important to Lance. Then there were his...physical needs. Being stuck in the middle of the universe with no romantic attention for an extended amount of time was beginning to get to him. But this was simply his manly nature requiring satisfaction.

That’s why it _shouldn’t_ have been a surprise for Keith to walk in on Lance satisfying his manhood...or rather….masculinity? Manliness? Perhaps manhood (although fitting) wasn’t the best choice of words.

 

34:00 (Altean time - evening)

 

“ _Jesucristo_ !” Lance yelped unevenly when the Altean door opened to reveal Keith standing rigid, wide eyed and speechless. There was an awkward moment of stillness and silence between the two before Lance continued screeching, distraught. “What the _fuck_ ... _what_ the _fuck_ ?! Get out don’t just stand there like that what the hell are you staring at - it’s natural, okay?! I’m just satisfying my manhood - n-not _that_ kind of manhood I mean like my manliness, my masculinity, you know, my manly needs that I need because I’m a man!”

Then there was another moment of silence, both boys red faced, Lance sitting awkwardly on the edge of his bed, covering himself with the sheets. Keith closed his mouth - which he only then realized was open - and cleared his throat. “Um...dinner’s ready...I’ll save some leftovers for you...b-bye.”

As the door closed, Keith could hear Lance shouting again, not particularly concerned by it. “H-hey! Wait a minute - I don’t want your shitty leftovers! I want a legit meal - qué chingados! hijo de puta ¿por qué me pasa esto?”

 _I’m too gay for this shit,_ Keith thought to himself, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair to calm down before facing everyone at the table. Keith - also being a man - had similar needs to Lance. And despite being much better at hiding it, Keith also craved affection. Although his feelings towards Lance were complicated, he had absolutely no problem admitting the physical attraction he had for the boy. _Gorgeous fucking idiot._

“Where’s Lance?” Pidge asked when Keith sat down. “Did he lock himself in his room by accident again?”

“No, he’s...busy, he’ll be down in a few minutes...probably.”

“A few minutes? Hunk - pass me all the extra squi-quittos before he gets here!”

“Is he okay?” Shiro asked, genuinely concerned.

“Oh, he’s just great.” Though his words were somewhat humorous (not that anyone understood why), Keith said them without expression, not sure whether to smirk or scowl at the unwanted lewd thoughts that kept popping in and out of his head.

Allura and Coran exchanged confused glances, but everyone shrugged it off easily. A few minutes into dinner and the manly stud himself came speedwalking into the dining room, face red, hands in pockets, eyes glued to the floor before hurriedly taking his seat and piling food onto his plate without saying a word. Though he was most definitely aware that all eyes were on him.

He looked up questioningly, expecting everyone to already have been briefed on the latest Lance update, but nobody seemed to know. “Where’s the squi-quittos?” he grumbled dramatically, looking around the table.

“Nope - ‘Unk din’t make any dunight.” Pidge replied with the last of them stuffed in her mouth, cheeks bulging on either side. He said nothing but gave her a suspicious, slit eyed glare.

As dinner proceeded, Keith and Lance both avoided eye contact, or any contact, for that matter...not that that was particularly strange for them. The air was awkward, though Coran did an excellent job of keeping the environment lively, retelling stories of the best squi-quittos he had ever made back in the day.

 

41:00 (Altean time - night)

 

Lance lay awake, face mask on, headphones playing old Pitbull remixes, brooding at the ceiling, and rethinking the embarrassing events of the day. He blushed profusely when he reminded himself of how he had rambled about his manhood to Keith, then infuriated himself at the thought of Keith now holding some of the most blackmail worthy information anybody on the ship had of him. He was positive that his life would be a living hell for the foreseeable future.

He was filled with dread and annoyance at the possibilities of what might lay in store for him, and yet still couldn’t help but wonder about the expression that Keith had worn on his face when that door opened. He didn’t looked disgusted, or teasing, or anything that a bro should be when walking in on another bro. He just looked shocked at first, then embarrassed, and then an expression that Lance couldn’t seem to comprehend. It wasn’t sad, and it wasn’t particularly apologetic, but he almost looked...disappointed? In what, Lance hadn’t the slightest idea.

 

42:00 (Altean time - night)

 

Keith, like Lance, was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and recounting the incident. He had always thought Lance was attractive, although the annoying factor had kept his feelings almost purely physical before Voltron. Once they became teammates and were forced to spend more time together, Keith began to see more to Lance than a hot idiot. Soon his feelings became muddled, and confusing.

Half the time he thought of Lance as his best friend...or at least _a_ friend, and Keith cared about him - platonically, that is. Sometimes he would fantasize about having hot gay sex with Lance - though there were never many emotions involved in that department, and Keith chocked it up to being a horny teenage boy. Most of the time, however, Lance annoyed the _hell_ out of Keith.

Keith never quite understood why Lance hated him so much, but if they spent enough time together he’d eventually want to strangle the cocky, self-righteous, and occasionally hilarious jackass. Interestingly enough, he found it easier to tolerate Lance when it was just the two of them, as he seemed to feel less of a need to attempt to publicly humiliate Keith.

Recently, however, Keith hadn’t even been able to separate these conflicting feelings, sometimes feeling all of them at the same time - and this was where he got really confused. He could care for Lance, want to fuck him, and want to kill him, all at the same time. Keith didn’t know what this meant, or if it even meant anything at all. He tried to make excuses for it, thinking that it could be that there’s simply nobody else on the ship that he thinks of in a remotely sexual sense, or it could be that being out in space for this long with no romantic attention was clouding his judgement, or it could be that he was simply spending too much time with Lance and had no other source of satisfaction, or it could be that the link they share with the lions was affecting them as paladins, or it could be -

Keith had thought of every and any excuse, but even to him they all seemed like bullshit.

And so, as he lay awake and recalled the embarrassing event in his head, he began remembering. He remembered the glimpse that he got of Lance’s face before he’d noticed the door opening, and he remembered how his pants were scrunching up at his ankles, the belt around his knees. He remembered feeling momentarily crestfallen at the thought that he’d probably never be able to see Lance in this state ever again.

Soon enough, remembering turned into fantasizing. Keith thought about Lance’s slender torso, the pronounced shoulder blades adorning his back, the lines of his stomach clenching while he screamed, his collarbone weaving into his shoulders, his hair slightly messy and his face _very_ flushed. He imagined running his fingers through that messy hair, and leaving scratch marks down those shoulder blades, and hickies on that collarbone, and before he knew it he was back to imagining hot gay sex with Lance McClain.

_Fucking hell._

 

18:00 (Altean time - Afternoon)

 

“What the fuck, Lance?” Keith exclaimed as he rubbed his head. “You were supposed to be covering me!”

“Keith, watch your language around Pidge,” Shiro scolded. “Now go sit on the bench, you’re dead.”  

“Da fuck?” Pidge piped in as well, ducking to avoid a stumbling Hunk. “I’m fifteen!”

Shiro blinked in surprise at Pidge’s retort. “Why do I even try?” He mumbled to himself.

Lance had been struggling all morning. Everytime he made eye contact with Keith he would scowl and then blush profusely, usually losing any coordination he had. Keith knew exactly why, and part of him was enjoying it dearly, but the other part of him (the part that had Lance as his training partner) was getting more irritated by the moment.

“Alright, guys,” Shiro sighed after Hunk had finally managed to fall directly on top of Pidge. “Thats enough for today, go shower and change, we’ll pick up again tomorrow.”

“I think you crushed my little arms,” Pidge whined, dangling her hands at her sides limply.

Keith got up off the bench and approached an exhausted Lance. “Hey.”

“What.” There was so much immature malice in Lance’s voice it was almost comical.

“You okay? What was that today?” He took Lance’s unamused death glare as a sign that he didn’t believe Keith was actually being genuine. “If it’s about what happened yester-gmmmf!”

“Shut your quiznack, mullet!” Lance whispered urgently, slapping a hand over Keith’s mouth and smiling innocently as Shiro gave him a confused glance. When they were the only two left in the room he released Keith.

“If it’s about what happened yesterday -”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, nothing happened, what even is a yesterday?”

“If it’s about -”

“Noooope.”

“If its-”

“Nada.”

“You’re a child.”

“Yes,” Lance smirked arrogantly. “And proud of it.”

“Well...just...don’t let me die on a real battle field, okay?”

“I got you, amigo, don’t worry about it.”

Keith paused, wondering if he should say what he was thinking next. “And...you don’t have to feel embarrassed or anything, I won’t tell anyone.”

Lance was silent, prompting Keith to glance up at him from a very interesting spot on the floor. His face was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “Why not?” he asked in a suspicious tone, leaning away from Keith.

“Did you _want_ me to?”

“Of course not! But if it was me I’d tell everyone, either that or blackmail you into doing whatever I want.”

Keith snorted out a laugh. “How creative. Well, lucky for you I guess I’m just more mature.”

Lance was silent for another moment. “So...you’re like...really not gunna do anything mean?” Keith wondered just how low Lance’s opinion of him was to take this long to process that he wasn’t a shit human being.

“Quiznack, it’s almost like you _want_ me to,” Keith chuckled. “But no, _surprisingly_ I’m a decent person with morals and a conscience, so rest assured.”

Lance scratched the back of his head, still seeming a little skeptical. “Well shiet...thanks man.”

Both boys headed for the door, bantering their way out. “Think of it as an investment in the future of my safety and life.”

“I’ll keep your life el safe-o as hell.”

“El safe-o? Lance you speak spanish fluently.”

“You know it, hombre.”

And while Keith shook his head, chuckling out of sheer disbelief at the levels of stupidity his friend would resort to, he swallowed down the familiar giddy lump that he got in his throat when he looked at Lance’s dorky, uneven smile. As usual, that lump merely turned into butterflies in his stomach. _When you care about someone,_ Keith thought to himself, _and you also want to fuck them...but you want to punch them, too...what do you call that?_


	2. Fuck.

It had been almost two weeks since Keith walked in on Lance, and both boys had nearly managed to forget about the incident. They bickered like usual, and most of the awkward air had vanished between them.

Despite his conflicting feelings towards Lance, Keith never felt nervous around him. Lance’s ability to turn literally any situation into a meme made it hard to do so. When in the presence of such impressive immaturity, it was easy to feel more confident in oneself. The times when Lance wasn’t a meme, however, were troublesome.

Since becoming team Voltron, Keith had learned many things about many of the Paladins. He’d learned that Pidge was far more terrifying when properly motivated than any alien he’d ever seen. He also learned that Hunk was far braver than any of them ever expected when he was the only one man enough to kill a creepy alien spider-like insect that had gotten into the kitchen. Of course, when Coran told him it was one of the most poisonous lifeforms in the universe (that they knew of), Hunk proceeded to faint and cry - in that order. Keith also learned that Shiro had a soft spot for Allura, something that intrigued him, as he had never known Shiro to have romantic feelings for anyone before.

But what Keith had learned about Lance was far more unexpected than Shiro having a crush. If Keith had been asked to describe Lance McClain back at the Garrison, he would’ve said something along the lines of “a walking meme who makes too many puns and seems to think he’s God’s gift to mankind, cringy as fuck, with the overdeveloped sex drive of a fourteen year old boy (with no skills to act upon it), the mood swings of a 50 year old woman, and the pettiness of a five year old girl.” However, if Keith were asked to describe Lance now, he’d have a much more difficult time.

One of the things Keith had learned about Lance, was that there were sides to him, sides that didn’t often interlace with one another. The immature, competitive, fuckboi (spelled exclusively with the ‘i’) Lance that Keith had originally thought him to be was only one of these sides. There was also a sweet, sentimental side to Lance that Keith had seen once or twice when he talked about his family back on Earth. There was a loyal side that he often showed when fighting alongside the team, the side that was self sacrificing and determined. And there was a friendly side to Lance that Keith had become somewhat acquainted with throughout their time in space. This Lance was kind and genuine, and really only showed himself under serious circumstances. He was there as a shoulder to lean on, or a bad joke to lighten the mood, or a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. This Lance could see through bullshit and was somehow able to sense when something’s wrong with one of his friends.

This was the Lance that Keith cared for. _This_ was the Lance that was dangerous.

 

39:00 (Altean time - evening)

 

“-and that,” Pidge continued, smiling triumphantly. “Is why the Death Star would never work.”

Hunk, Keith, and Lance all gaped at her proud smirk, their minds figuratively (though they felt literally) blown. Keith shook his head slightly, rubbing his eyes while Hunk sighed out in relief.

“Well, you know, knowing that aliens are real now, it’s reassuring to know that at least they can’t just blow up planets as easily as in movies, you know?”

“Oh they can.” Pidge continued. “Just not with a Death Star.”

Hunk’s eye visibly twitched. “Oh...o-o-o-okay cool...cool cool cool. Comforting.”

Lance was still glaring at Pidge through slitted eyes, as if leaning forward and pulling a stupid squinty face would make him understand scientific terminology better.

“Thanks for ruining Star Wars forever, Pidge!” He finally exploded, folding his arms and pouting.

“Hey, you guys brought it up.”

“I think…” Hunk started, slowly getting up. “I think Hunk needs a nice relaxing bath with lots of bubbles and a really big space shake followed by a long nap to soak in this information, see ya guys.”

“I’m gunna go do something more entertaining elsewhere,” Pidge chimed in, leaving with two armfuls of tech.

The room fell silent between Keith and Lance, neither particularly comfortable, or particularly uncomfortable. Keith fidgeted with his knife, acting a little more interested in it than he really was. Lance simply sighed loudly and flopped onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I didn’t ever think that I’d be _bored_ on a space castle-ship in the middle of a ten thousand year old alien war,” Lance stated, earning a small chuckle from Keith.

“I guess you’re just boring,” he replied, still attentive to his knife.

“Now _that’s_ a shot below the belt, mullet, and you _know_ it’s not true.”

Keith just shrugged, almost instantly regretting it when silence fell upon them once more. He looked over his shoulder at Lance, who had closed his eyes peacefully. _You’re so fucking pretty,_ Keith thought, speaking to his mind what he wished he could say out loud. _But you’re also so fucking annoying...with your stupid dorky smile, and your shitty cute freckles. I wanna fuck you._ He felt his face heating up as he thought it, a rush of adrenaline flowing through him at the thought that he could think something so crude without Lance being able to hear it. _How can I think that when you’re right in front of me?_ He blinked expressionlessly, repeating those last six words. _You’re right in front of me. I could just kiss you right now, there’s nothing stopping me. Or I could climb on top of you and take your shirt off...and bite your neck...and suck on your stupid ears._

 _I wonder what he’d do if I did that? If I climbed on top of him? He’d probably push me off and start yelling._ But of course it was more fun for Keith to imagine that Lance would go along with it, and grab his hips and grind against him.

If one were to look at Keith’s face, they would have no idea the lewd, dirty, guilty thoughts that filled it. His face looked as calm and expressionless as ever, simply staring at Lance with a small subconscious frown while he fantasized in great detail about - once again - hot gay sex with Lance.

He wasn’t quite sure why he always resorted to this, maybe it was simply because it was entertaining. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Keith to fantasize about sex. He had done it even at the Garrison - fantasized, that is. He was a scorpio, so he often used that as an excuse for himself, but he didn’t even really know if that was a true stereotype or not. What he _did_ know was that he wanted contact; physical, intimate, passionate contact. He wanted something raw and animalistic and genuine, he wanted someone else’s skin against his, Lance’s wouldn’t be so bad. Would he ever admit this desire? Not in a million years, he was even ashamed of it himself, and yet he was still able to sit there, a mere three feet away from the kid, and imagine Lance’s hands exploring his body, and Lance’s mouth teasing him with that irritating cocky smirk, and Lance’s eyes watching him with an entertained shine to them.

“I’m going to bed,” Keith stated abruptly, setting his knife down to stand up.

“What?” Lance whined, opening his eyes and sitting up on his elbows. “You’re leaving me here all alone - in the middle of a foreign alien ship, no less?”

“Lance, we’ve been here for over a year.”

“Touche,” Lance replied matter of factly, not particularly offended.

“See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

 

41:00 (Altean time - night)

Keith lay on his bed in nothing but his T-shirt and boxers, staring at the ceiling with heavy eyelids and a furrowed brow. He wanted to do it, but wasn’t sure if it was worth the guilt he’d feel afterwards. He could never quite put his finger on it, but something about masterbating made Keith feel ashamed and disgusting - even more so for enjoying it immensely. He knew it was natural, and he knew there was nothing to be particularly ashamed _of_ , but he could never shake the guilty feeling.

Sexual pleasure was such an intimate experience, one that he felt was meant to be shared with another person, a person who would turn him on, and satisfy him, and enjoy doing it. A person who would make him want to satisfy them in return. This is why he found it difficult to comprehend solitary sexual pleasure; he didn’t turn _himself_ on, he didn’t make _himself_ horny, so how could he not feel strange and guilty for enjoying touching himself so much? Even thinking about it made him want to do it, but the more he wanted to, the more hesitant he became.

He thought back to the face Lance had been making when Keith had walked in on him. Lance looked serene, like he was enjoying himself guiltlessly. Lance didn’t look hesitant or embarrassed by himself, he looked confident and carefree. Keith envied this about him.

While he thought about Lance (or more specifically - the two dimensional sex object version of Lance that Keith often fantasized about), Keith closed his eyes and ran his hand down his stomach, hesitating at the strap of his boxers.

 _It’s fine,_ he said to himself. _Just do it._

 

41:00 (Altean time - night)

 

After falling asleep on the floor, Lance woke up abruptly when something short and nerdy stumbled over his body. “Pidge?”

“Why the hell were you sleeping on the floor?!” she squeaked irritatedly, looking through all her equipment to make sure none of it was damaged.

“I was getting my beauty sleep, which you so rudely interrupted, thank you very much.”

“Go sleep in your bed. And what’s Keith’s knife doing here? I almost fell on it.”

Lance picked up the dagger, which he then realised had been lying directly beside him the whole time. “That hijo de _puta_ ! I could’ve rolled over that in my sleep - I could be dead right now, Pidge, you hear me? _Dead_!”

Pidge pushed her glasses up, unamused. “Lance it was lying on it’s side, your brain probably does more damage to itself on a daily basis than that knife would’ve done.”

“Oh yeah?!” Lance countered, scrambling to think of a fitting response. “Well...your brain...um - hey!” He blinked at the bright flash of a makeshift camera that Pidge had been tinkering with. “Did you take a picture?”

She smiled. “I just wanted to capture the face you make when your brain cell tries to work.”

“I believe you mean cells, plural, _múltiple._ ”

“No, I definitely meant cell.”

Before he could realise just how badly he had been burned, she patted him on the shoulder and continued carrying her equipment through the castle. By the time Lance _did_ realise what Pidge had meant, she was already out of sight.

He sat on the floor for a moment, face red with both embarrassment and anger, before picking up the knife. Initially he planned to play an elaborate prank, involving elastic bands and food colouring (both of which he failed to find anywhere in the castle), but after playing around with it and doing spot on impersonations of Keith, he remembered how Keith had done him a solid a couple weeks ago, so he decided to just give it back.

“Turn your music off, Lance, it’s not depressing enough,” Lance spoke to himself in a low, mocking voice as he headed to Keith’s room. “If you don’t stop being so handsome and impressive I’m gunna corrupt your fashion sense with my stupid, impractical mullet.”

He paused outside Keith’s door, waving in front of the sensor. He tried touching it, poking it, licking it, and speaking to it, but it didn’t open until he slapped his palm against it. “Stupid Altean doors….”

The door was the least of his concern, however, when it opened and revealed what was on the other side. Lance took three steps before looking up and pausing, mid stride. Keith didn’t notice Lance’s presence until the knife dropped to the floor with a loud metallic clink that echoed through the room.

“L...Lance?” Keith spoke breathlessly at first, sitting up on one of his elbows before processing the situation and springing into a sitting position. “ _L-Lance?!”_

Lance remembered thinking back to when Keith had walked in on _him_ , and how he had just stood there in the doorway, staring. Lance had thought it was weird, he thought that the appropriate response would have been to immediately look away and pretend it never happened. Now that Lance was in Keith’s position, he understood the urge to keep staring.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise to Lance that Keith got himself off, the surprise was _how_ he went about doing it. Keith wasn’t touching his dick, instead he had his hand between his legs, and his fingers in his ass.

At first Lance was confused, and a little grossed out, but after staring at more than just between Keith’s legs, he felt his face heating up and his breath catching. Keith’s expression was one that Lance never expected to see in a million years; his eyes were distant, his eyelids heavy, his face was flushed, and his voice was breathless and desperate. Keith’s back was arched, and his knees were drawn together, his free hand clutching the bed sheets. And the sight of him in such a vulnerable, oddly erotic, and so un-Keith-like state made Lance’s pulse beat faster and his chest feel tight.

After coming to his senses, Keith grabbed handfuls of the blanket and covered himself, sitting up abruptly. Neither of the boys said anything for what felt like an eternity, they just stood in silence, both beet red, wide eyed, and regretting their recent decisions.

“Lance!” Keith shouted unevenly after the longest eleven seconds of their lives, voice cracking in distress.

“ _H-huh_?!” Lance seemed to snap out of some sort of trance, eyes terrified, standing up straighter.

Keith tried to gesture by leaning forward and raising his eyebrows, as if it were obvious what he wanted, not that Lance was catching on. “G-get out!”

“Oh! Y-y-yea, out! G-good evening, man...bro...b-bro sir...budd-”

“Leave!”

Lance jumped again as if Keith’s yelling had startled him, before turning heel and stumbling out the door. He paused when he was out and looked left and then right, having momentarily forgotten which way his room was.

 

42:00 (Altean time - night)

Once the door had closed behind Lance, Keith released the breath he didn’t notice he had been holding, still clutching the bed sheets to his chest. His breath was ragged and short, ears red, cheeks warm. He tried to swallow the lump of anxiety in his throat (not that it really worked), and flopped down onto his back, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck.”


	3. A Hot Mess

09:00 (Altean time - dawn)

  
  


Lance rolled over in his bed for what felt like the thousandth time that night and stared at the wall inattentively, not even realizing his eyes were open. Although his vision was filled with a blank white surface, his mind seemed to be projecting the image of a half naked, red faced Keith onto the wall as if it were a movie screen.

He kicked his feet out of the bottom of the blankets, cringing at how his clothes stuck to his sweat-coated body. Lance tried closing his eyes, opening them, rubbing them, and rolling over to stare at the other wall, but no matter where he looked, his mind would eventually return to that image of Keith which he couldn’t seem to forget no matter how hard he tried.

There was something he found disturbingly fascinating about it. It didn’t particularly turn him on, but it didn’t disgust him either - he simply wanted to see it again. He wanted to stare at Keith’s face and watch his legs tremble and hear him mumble “Lance” in that breathless voice, and assure himself that it was, indeed, Keith who had said it. He wanted to watch Keith touch himself over and over again until he could come to terms with the fact that it was real.

Not only did Lance want assurance, but he also wanted answers. How often did Keith do it? Why did he do it like  _ that _ ? Does he always do it like that? What does he think about when he does it? Is he gay? Is he straight? Has he ever been with someone before?

These questions were important - especially considering that up until a few hours ago, Lance didn’t even think that Keith  _ got  _ horny. He was convinced the guy had no sex drive whatsoever, but the more he thought about that anomaly of an expression on Keith’s face, the more he seemed to crave seeing it again.

And so, Lance lay in bed, blankets bunching up around his face, bags under his eyes, pillow damp with sweat, body half asleep, mind confused and filled with thoughts of Keith Kogane, and subconsciously trailed his hands towards his boxers. He wasn’t holding his junk on purpose, his body seemed to nestle itself into the position on its own, and it was somehow comfortable. But when he felt the heat from his hands through the fabric of his boxers, and he saw Keith gasping out his name in his mind’s extremely lucid dream, comfortable became an understatement.

He stayed like that, hands on his crotch, heat pulsing through him, before realizing exactly what he was doing, and exactly what he was thinking about while doing it, and reflexively pulling his hands up to the pillow, his heart skipping more than one beat.

  
  


11:00 (Altean time - morning)

  
  


Keith woke up with a jolt, head pounding, heart racing, anxiety leaping into his throat, before sitting up and looking around the room. This was the third time he had woken up that night in a cold sweat, terrified for no particular reason. He felt relief flood through him when he saw that it was a reasonable time to get up, as opposed to forcing himself back to sleep again.

He threw his legs over the edge of his bed, the air cold on his skin compared to the warmth of his blankets. The cold wasn’t what made him shiver, though. No, he shivered at the memory of the previous night, and the look of shocked confusion that had been plastered to Lance’s face. He shivered at how pure fear pulsed through him when he thought back to being exposed so openly in front of his friend. Mostly, though, he shivered at the realization that he would have to face Lance today in training, and act as if nothing had happened.

He must have sat on the edge of that bed and stared at the floor for an eternity, his mind playing out every horrible scenario that could possibly take place. Keith shuddered again just imagining that shit-eating smirk he  _ knew  _ would be teasing him all day. But the thing that really made his stomach twist itself into a painful knotted mess was the small chance that Lance  _ wouldn’t  _ be smirking.

Keith swallowed nervously, eyes still glued to the floor, chest tightening until it was painful. If Lance didn’t make fun of him for it, what did that mean? That Lance had figured out Keith was gay? That he figured out Keith was gay for  _ him _ ? The dread and anxiety felt heavy in the pit of Keith’s stomach, and he swallowed again to keep it from coming up.

By the time he actually stood up, Keith’s legs were shaky and nearly numb.  _ I need to train, _ he thought desperately.

  
  


12:00 (Altean time - morning)

Shiro was the only one awake when Keith entered the training room. He nodded a curt, but friendly greeting and returned to the blue Altean screen before him, planning out a regimen for the day. Keith’s spirits sunk slightly, as he had hoped to aggressively dump some of his problems onto a training drone before the day started.

“What are we doing today?” Keith asked, setting his bayard down on the bench and trying to act as normal as possible while he stretched.

“I think we’re going to do some practice as Voltron, maybe see if we can get the hang of that kick we’ve been imbalanced on.”

“Sounds good to me.” Keith could barely mask the relief he felt at the fact that he wouldn’t have to be face to face with Lance. “I’m gunna take Red out for a bit before we start, warm up or something.”

Shiro nodded absentmindedly, still working out what seemed to be a problem with his schedule. “Okay have fun, be safe.”

The tightness in Keith’s chest became more bearable as he smiled to himself. “And be home for dinner,” he joked teasingly. “Don’t talk to strangers.”

Shiro chuckled to himself, joining in. “Stay with your flying buddy, call me when you get to your lion.”

“Got it dad.”

“Atta boy.”

  
  


(31:00 - Altean time - afternoon)

Something about flying with Red seemed to ease Keith’s nerves. He had enjoyed flying since he was a kid, but with Red it was more than just a rush of adrenaline; Keith felt  _ right  _ at Red’s helm, like he belonged there - a feeling that was rather foreign to him. Even when the team had formed Voltron, Keith was able to stay focused despite Lance screaming into his helmet half the time -  _ because  _ he was with Red.

After the team training session, he had gone off with her by himself, practicing maneuvers and scanning the surrounding space for Galra ships. There was no sense of time when he flew Red, it was an abyss of freedom and solitude void of loneliness. He flew until Shiro told him he had to come back, trying to ignore the worry that boiled inside him.

 

After releasing a rather forlorn sigh, Keith finally left his lion, patting her head affectionately before she straightened up and stiffened.

“Good kitty.”

 

32:00 (Altean time - afternoon).

 

Lance yawned dramatically, nearly elbowing Pidge in the face while he stretched.

“Watch it,” She mumbled, shoving him towards Hunk.

“You watch it,” Lance mumbled back, pinching her cheek and stretching it.

“Hey Keith, nice job today, buddy,” Hunk waved energetically when Keith entered the room. Lance wasn’t positive, but he could’ve sworn he saw Keith cringe at the mention of his name.

“You too, Hunk,” he nodded shortly in response. Lance felt his cheeks growing warmer when he stared at Keith - fully aware that he was staring, in fact, and unable to stop himself. He hadn’t realized until now that this was the first time he had seen Keith since last night. He thought it would have been unbearably awkward, with a lot of dramatic stuttering and embarrassed blushing, but Keith simply nodded to him rather formally when they made eye contact and continued walking to his room.

The greeting was so anticlimactic that Lance almost felt offended, having psyched himself up for something far more traumatizing or humiliating. That said, the irritable, abashed blush that dusted Keith’s cheeks didn’t escape Lance for a second. He watched as Keith left the room, eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open in thought, too distracted to pay mind to the comment Pidge was making about how stupidly confused he looked.

_ He can’t be that calm about this,  _ Lance thought to himself, curiosity bubbling inside him.  _ He should be mortified.  _ While Lance thought about all of the things that Keith  _ should _ be, he was filled with the desire to follow him and fulfill his imagined awkward encounter. His legs twitched in a brief moment of hesitation, but before he knew it he was walking after Keith, mumbling a goodbye to Hunk and Pidge absentmindedly.

He jogged lightly until he saw the black mullet turn a corner, calling out unthinkingly.

“Keith!”

Keith stopped dead in his tracks, his heart in his mouth, nearly jumping out of his skin. When Lance noticed the way Keith stiffened before turning around, he felt reassured.

“L-Lance?” And in an instant, that reassurance vanished. Lance stopped dead in his tracks when Keith turned around with red cheeks and panicked eyes, stuttering his name - because in that instant, Lance’s mind was flooded with the memory of Keith with identically red cheeks, distant eyes, and a breathless voice, stuttering out his name in a far too similar a fashion.

“Did you...want something?” Lance was pulled back to reality after a moment of awkward silence, straightening up slightly and trying to ignore how warm his face was getting.

“Um...uh...yeah.” He gawked at Keith with a dumbfounded embarrassment suddenly pounding in his chest. And when their eyes met and Lance finally noticed the panic and insecurity on Keith's face, he felt  _ guilty. _ He had no idea why, and he had absolutely no reason to be, but he pitied the way his ordinarily cold friend swallowed nervously, as if he were trying to hold back anxious tears.

“I just wanted to  _ ass- _ ure you that I won't be blackmailing you.” Lance put on a teasing grin, settling comfortably into his facade. He even savored the way Keith furrowed his eyebrows and squinted up at him questioningly.

“Did you just...?”

“From now on, mullet, you're going to be the  _ butt  _ of my every joke.”

After a moment Keith's eyes shifted from confused to irritated. “You're unbelievable.”

“I have to say, Keith, your compassion is your greatest  _ ass- _ et.”

At the scowl Lance received, he knew he had done his job and restored Keith to his normal, mildly irritated self, but there was absolutely no reason to ruin a perfectly good opportunity.

“Come on now, don't be s- _ ass- _ y about it, mullet, it's not like I'm har- _ ass- _ ing you.”

“Bye, Lance.”

And with that, Keith turned around and continued towards his bedroom, unable to mask a relieved smile from finding its way onto his lips once he was out of Lance's sight. Lance, on the other hand, felt his cheeks heating up and his throat getting tight at the image that was now ingrained into his mind of Keith Kogane gasping out his name in a hot mess. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey??????????
> 
> Firstly, thanks to everyone for reading!  
> Secondly, sorry this took so long to update, been in the process of moving recently so its been chaotic.  
> Thirdly, sorry if this chapter is shitty, FeElINgs ArE hArD tO WriTE aBouT soOmeTiemES yA kNOw? wHat eVEn aRE eMOtIoNs?


	4. Torturous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Sexy content...like...PG 14? Maybe? Idk

It had never been difficult for Lance to find new and interesting ways to make fun of Keith. Be it name calling, pranks that may or may not have (but definitely had) been taken a little too far, or simply being a constant annoyance, Lance was always able to irritate Keith without any effort. The current problem was that now he had to try.

Lance had hoped that things would eventually go back to normal, similar to how they did when Keith had walked in on him, but wishful thinking was getting him nowhere. Instead, he had to make it _seem_ like things were normal, when in reality he would suffer intense emotional turmoil every time Keith entered the room.

Lance found himself keenly aware of Keith's presence. Whether he was standing in the corner with a frustrated scowl or arguing with Pidge about the most efficient way to demobilize a Galra bot, Lance found all his attention focused on Keith. At any given time, Lance would know how far away Keith was from him, what expression he was making, every contribution he'd had to a conversation in the last ten minutes, what he was wearing, and where he was looking. And, throughout all these unwanted observations, Lance had to do his best to act as uninterested and annoying as he usually was.

Before, it had been like second nature for Lance to irritate Keith. But having to calculate the most Lance-ish time to insert a bad pun, or monitor the number of jokes he had made in a day so as not to make it seem like he was paying an inordinate amount of attention to Keith was driving Lance insane. If one were to suggest to Lance that he was displaying the text-book case of having a crush, he would most likely deny it to no end, knowing full-well that it was one hundred percent accurate.

As the days passed and turned into weeks, Lance was not only aware of Keith's presence, but he felt himself craving it. He wanted to be in the same room as Keith despite how incredibly stressful it was. He wanted to make fun of Keith and savor his subtle annoyed pout – which was growing increasingly attractive to Lance every day. He even wanted to relive the night that he had walked into Keith's room to return his knife.

Lance thought about that night regularly, imagining alternate scenarios and what he could have done instead of staring and stuttering idiotically. He imagined what might have happened if he had started making jokes and lightening the mood, or if he had simply turned around immediately and left. The scenario that he seemed to default to imagining, however, was what might have happened if he stayed.

When Lance thought about being physically intimate with Keith (which had recently become a frequent pass-time for him), he felt a strange, guilty pleasure that would make his chest tighten and his stomach twist. This pleasure terrified him.

Lance had never been overly attracted to Keith (although he couldn't deny that Keith was an attractive guy), but when he thought about that red-cheeked, desperate expression that he had seen on Keith's face (though his memory was most likely altered due to fantasizing), he couldn't help imagining Keith making that face because of him. Lance wanted to be the reason for that expression, he wanted Keith to gasp out his name with purpose instead of absentminded confusion. Perhaps it was the power trip that Lance felt when he thought about being able to strip Keith down to such an exposed state, or perhaps it was the warm feeling he got in his chest at the idea of Keith trusting him enough to let himself reach that state, but whatever the reason, Lance wanted to turn Keith into a hot, disheveled, vulnerable mess. This desire confused him immensely.

 

32:00 (Altean Time – Noon)

 

The only solace that Lance had from his inner turmoil were team missions. Focusing on an objective seemed to be the only thing that would take his mind off of Keith. Even when the two of them were paired for a mission, his passion for fulfilling his duty to the team was what made Lance able to fight alongside Red and Keith without distraction.

On one particular mission that involved an exhausting amount of one-on-one combat with a Galra fleet that was invading a foreign planet, Lance found himself fighting together with Keith speechlessly, as if they knew each others' every thought. It had been a while since he fought beside Keith outside of their lions, and he had almost forgotten the rush of adrenaline he felt when they – in Lance's opinion – kicked ass together.

He chuckled at the way Keith pouted slightly when he shot a soldier Keith was about to attack. Then again, Keith had taken out more than a few of Lance's targets as well. The competition fueled them, not necessarily to win, but simply to be competitive, although it definitely helped them win the fight against the fleet.

“How many you got?” Keith asked with a breathless smirk once the surviving Galra had retreated.

“Twenty-five, you?”

“Twenty-eight.”

The two could have spent hours bickering over who was the better fighter, however the locals of the city that they had saved swarmed around them in a crowd of celebratory cheers. Lance basked in the glory, the appreciation of the crowd soothing his insecurities. Lance knew he wasn't as skilled as Keith, or as smart as Pidge, or as compassionate as Hunk, or as fearless as Shiro, and so he often worried that he didn't belong on the team - that he was just a seventh wheel. Distracting himself from these thoughts was Lance's full-time occupation, and that's why the cheers of the locals warmed his heart and put his worries to rest. Temporarily, that is. 

Lance cherished the attention and cheers of admiration, until he felt a small hand tug on his arm. When he looked down his eyes were met by a shy, teary eyed, smiling face.

“Um,” her voice was sweet and quiet. “Thank you for saving us, sir.”

The smile that tugged at Lance's lips triggered warmth to flow throughout his body, and when she closed her eyes and wrapped her tiny arms around his waist, Lance felt his own eyes start to sting. This child's affection reminded him of his home, and his family, and how much he missed having somebody look up to him -  mostly how much he needed something to love.

Without thinking, as if it were his body's instinctive response, Lance knelt down to the girl's height and wrapped her up in his arms, his heart fluttering at her quiet giggle when he stood back up and swung her on his hip – much like how he'd done with his younger siblings. The feeling was nostalgic, and he felt his spirits sinking slightly when her mother took her from him with an apologetic smile.

“Paladins!” Both boys turned when a deep voice spoke, finding themselves face to face with an older, beaming alien. They recognized him as the one who had placed the distress call. “We can't thank you enough for all you've done for us! Please,” he held out a large basket full of food and drinks. “It is not much, but we hope you can accept this as our thanks.”

“It's wonderful, thank you.” Keith took the basket with an appreciative smile. “If you ever need us, you know how to reach us.”

 

41:00 (Altean Time – Evening)

 

“Lance....” Pidge squinted irritatedly when Lance slung his arm over her shoulder, causing both of them to stumble.

“YeR a cUte liL' bIRd aReN'T cHya, PiiIiiIIdGE....PidgeOn....”

“Are you drunk?”

Lance chuckled to himself, nearly falling over had Hunk not been there to catch him. “I dON't rrEmeMBer MaaN...MayYbe a liTtLe biT I tHinK yEs....”

Pidge grunted disgustedly, shoving him into Hunks arms and sitting back on the couch with Keith, who was thoroughly enjoying the scene.

“What did you _drink_?” Hunk questioned when Lance tried to kiss him on the cheek.

“The aLIens hUunky thEY're sooO nIice thEY gAVe us sOMe sNaaCks and dRInks.”

Keith stood up and took the nearly empty bottle from Lance's hand, unable to read the writing on it. When Coran entered the room he was able to decipher that it was the equivalent of a very strong liquor, and that Lance would most likely pass out in an hour or two.

“An hour or _two?!_ We're gunna have to deal with him for another hour or _two_?”

“It's fine, Pidge,” Keith stated, slinging one of Lance's arms over his shoulder. “I'll take him to his room.”

 

43:00 (Altean Time – Dusk)

 

“Come on buddy,” Keith mumbled, struggling to open the door without dropping Lance. “You gotta help me out here.”

“cAan't....” Lance whined, grabbing a handful of Keith's shirt with his free hand to stop himself from falling. “Too mUch druunk.”

“Jesus – hey!” Both boys landed with a thud in a pile on the floor when the door opened. While Keith struggled to get Lance onto his bed, he suppressed the butterflies in his stomach that fluttered at Lance's weight leaning on him. He savored simply pushing his hands against Lance's shoulders to support him, let alone the way Lance's face was buried in his neck, or his hands gripping Keith's shirt for support.

These butterflies were familiar to Keith; controllable, nothing out of the ordinary, but when he finally sat Lance down on the bed and felt an arm slip around his waist, his self control dwindled quickly. Lance's fingers seemed to snake around Keith's stomach as if they had a mind of their own, pulling Keith onto the bed beside him.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked with a small frown, sitting on the edge of the bed beside a nearly passed out Lance.

The boy mumbled into his pillow, pulling Keith closer until he was able to reach his other hand around Keith's chest and drag him down beside him. “Wanna cuudle yoOu.”

Keith hesitated. His better judgment was telling him to leave, but his body couldn't seem to obey. It felt like an eternity that he was frozen there, halfway between sitting and lying down, trying to get his body to move. The right thing would have been to listen to his judgment, but the closest he could come to doing the right thing was simply not doing the wrong thing.

It was when Lances hands pulled more firmly around Keith's torso that both his will power and body collapsed, curling up with his back to Lance while Lance pulled him like a puzzle piece into his chest. For a moment the two boys lay peacefully. Lance welcomed that warm feeling at having someone in his arms again, while Keith shivered at the way Lance's breath hit the nape of his neck.

Although Lance was too far-gone to notice or care, Keith was fully aware of the circumstances. He realized all in one short moment that this was the most intimate he'd ever been with Lance, that Lance was willingly holding him in such an intimate way, and that he desperately wanted things to get more intimate.

Keith tried frantically to ignore his increasing heart rate, and his invasive pulse, and his ragged breathing, but he was inevitably unsuccessful. There was no way he could ignore how tight Lance was holding him, or how warm Lance's chest was against his back, or how Lance's hair tickled his neck. In an attempt at hiding these feelings, Keith grabbed a handful of his pillow and curled his body further towards the mattress, telling himself to calm down.

He thought he imagined it at first, but Keith definitely felt the hands on his stomach beginning to move, tightening their grip on his torso and squeezing him against Lance's body.

“Keeef....” Lance whined out, burying his face in Keith's neck. “yuUr sexyy....”

And that's when time stopped. With that one comment, Lance would irreversibly change the dynamic of their friendship forever. “...What?” Keith mumbled, dumbfounded. _I definitely didn't hear that right._

“wAanna kiss youu....”

Reality paused when Keith felt a pair of lips brush against his skin. His voice caught in his throat at a hand trailing from his chest up to his neck almost affectionately. The touch felt too comfortable for Keith, as if Lance was familiar with it. “Eres sexy,” Lances voice repeated in his ear, kissing his neck a second time.

Keith thought to himself that he should be shocked, but he was much too lightheaded to feel shocked. Instead, he felt warmth. He felt the heat of Lance all over him, he felt his face burning and his skin sweating. He felt horny. He felt guilty. He felt himself submitting to Lance's touch too easily for comfort.

“Keiith,” he felt his body shiver at Lances voice. He felt his eyes roll back and his vision get blurry at the feeling of Lance's mouth on his ear. He felt his breath catch in his chest at the sound of Lance's tongue echoing in his head. “Quieroo besaarte.”

 _He's drunk,_ Keith said to himself, over and over again. _Don't do it, he's drunk. Don't you dare do it._

“I wanna kiss your pouty lil' lips,” Lance mumbled into Keith's skin. “Why'r you alwayys pouting, Keith? It maAkes mewaanna kiss youu.” Keith seemed to instinctively part his lips when Lance's thumb grazed over them, his fingers following suit until they were inside Keith's mouth. It seemed natural, but it triggered a euphoric excitement in both boys.

The feeling was mutually, tortuously enjoyable. The heat of Keith's mouth sparked a new, far more consuming desire in Lance's body, not to mention the feeling of his tongue dancing with Lance's fingers, or his lips sucking in slightly when Lance pulled his hand away, as if they were begging it to stay. And suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Lance's touch turned from ginger and experimental to passionate and sure.

He didn't kiss, but bit Keith's neck, sucking gently on the flesh in his mouth. He ran his hands over Keith's body, he cursed under his breath at Keith's appeal, he pulled Keith's hips into his crotch. And Keith loved every second of it.

It wasn't pleasure that made Keith gasp out each voice-laced breath – it was desire, and adrenaline. He burned with the need for satisfaction. He felt his stomach tighten in anticipation every time Lance would grind against him, and he had to suppress the urge to take control that this anticipation entailed.

Keith felt his hands twitching at the thought of turning around and straddling Lance's hips, and kissing his irritatingly soft lips. Keith wanted to strip every piece of clothing that stopped their skin from touching, he didn't want foreplay, he wanted _contact_ , but that desire only made his body burn hotter wherever Lance touched him.

He had fantasized so frequently about hot gay sex with Lance, but Keith had never really thought it a viable reality. He had never been particularly hopeful for it to happen or particularly disappointed at the thought that it probably never would. Needless to say, in this unexpected situation, Keith was a mixture of shocked, confused, and _weak_.

The moment was a separate universe all together. By being in Lance's arms and nuzzled into his pillow, Keith was detached from the rest of the worlds. This couldn't be the same reality in which Lance made puns about his mullet. Instead, it was a world in which Lance and Keith were the only inhabitants. It was a world solidified only in time, between the two of them; a world that existed as a result of their intimacy, and once that intimacy would end, the word would cease to exist. Keith despised the idea of that happening.

He loved this world encompassing him in the form of Lance's hands exploring his body, and the heat of Lances mouth on his ear, and the pressure of Lance's crotch against his ass, and the comfort of Lance's chest on his back, and the low whisper of Lance's slurred, breathless words hitting his neck. Keith loved this world.

“Keith,” He shuddered at the low growl of his name. “You're fUckin sexy.” He trembled at the way Lance's hips moved to the rhythm of his words. “I wanna fuck you.” He burned at the desire to make that exact statement a reality.

 _What the fuck...is happening?_ He asked himself this question repeatedly, finding himself caring less and less about the answer.

“Lance,” Keith spoke for the first time, preparing himself to turn around and pounce on an unsuspecting Lance. _Please. Fuck me to your hearts content._

Limp.

When Keith sat up and looked over his shoulder, Lance's body was limp. His eyes were closed, and he was unconscious. For a brief moment, Keith had to stop himself from slapping him until he woke up. The disappointment was brutal, but even worse was the feeling of reality sinking in. And as time resumed and Keith's world crumbled, he felt himself beginning to panic.

It must have been an eternity that he sat beside Lance, red faced, confused, full of disbelief, and horny as all hell before he stood up. He didn't want to leave. If he left, it would mean that he'd have to return to reality, and he had absolutely no idea how to do so. But if he stayed, he would have to sit in the vivid memory of _Lance_ , and that was far, far more torturous.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HeLlO 
> 
> I probably won't update sUUpEr frequently cause I'm back in school now, but updates will happen nonetheless, if I decide to stop writing this fic before the ending I have planned I'll post a chapter saying its done. 
> 
> *insert all the hand emojis here*


	5. Predator & Prey

  
  


44:00 (Altean Time - Dusk) 

 

Keith returned to the lounge where Hunk and Pidge were discussing the biomechanics of her Lion. He had taken a moment (or thirty) after leaving Lance’s room to conduct himself. Having gone so far as to check his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he was certain he’d ridden his face of any lingering embarrassed blushing, but as soon as his companions turned around to greet him with oblivious smiles he felt the heat returning to his cheeks tenfold. 

“Everything okay?” Hunk asked lightheartedly. “You were gone for like, an hour.” 

Keith nodded silently, feeling the heat intensify. “He’s fine. It’s fine.”

Hunk nodded contentedly, not thinking anything more of the situation. Pidge, however, quickly put two and two together and twisted her mouth into a hellish, diabolical smirk that sent chills down Keith’s spine. 

“He’s  _ fine _ , is he?” She questioned, adjusting her glasses presumptuously. “Tell us, Keith, just how  _ fine _ is he?” 

Keith recalled a few months back to when Pidge had asked him about his sexuality (mostly so that she could win a bet against Hunk). The conversation had led to guessing other team member’s sexualities, and ended with an argument regarding Lance’s. Being a genius, as Pidge was, it didn’t take long for her to notice Keith’s attraction to Lance, and it took even less time for her to begin teasing him about it (to be exact, it took about half an hour from the time Keith told her he was gay to her commenting about what she referred to as a “Lance attack.”) 

Lance’s recent attraction to Keith hadn’t gone unnoticed by Pidge, either. But she had figured that involving herself in romantic happenings within the team - although tempting - wasn’t her place. That, however, didn’t mean that she couldn’t humiliate Keith about it to no end. 

“There are no variables of fine, Pidge,” Keith countered quickly, his hands flying up beside his head in a panicked fluster. “You’re either fine, or you’re not fine, and Lance is fine. End of story.” 

“Depends on what kind of  _ fine  _ you’re talking about - but I’ll take your word that  _ Lance  _ is standardly  _ fiiine. _ ” 

“Oh I get it,” Hunk smiled after a moment of tense silence. “You’re teasing Keith cause he’s gay and has a crush on Laaance, good one Pidge!” 

Keith’s face must have been melting by this point, he could practically feel the heat radiating off him. “Mother-! For the last time I  _ don’t   _ have a crush on Lance!” 

“Don’t worry, Keith,” Hunk spoke in a genuinely comforting voice, standing up to pat Keith’s back comfortingly. “You’ll realize it one day.” 

“Yeah,” Pidge snorted. “Invite us to the wedding.” 

“Fuck you guys I’m going to bed.” 

“Awww, Keith! Don’t be like that!”

“He’s….he’s not comin’ back, is he? Yeah, no he’s leaving….he’s leaving…..he left.” 

Pidge chuckled to herself once her and Hunk were once again the only two in the lounge. Hunk, on the other hand, furrowed his eyebrows in thought. 

“Hey, Pidge...you don’t think we took it to far, do you? I mean he seemed pretty mad.” 

Pidge leaned back on the couch and sighed “Oh we definitely took it too far. Keith never goes to bed early.”  

 

46:00 (Altean Time - Night)

 

Keith stared at himself in the bathroom mirror of his bedroom, unable to rid his face of the pink blush that covered it. For being so clever, Pidge was horrible at reading situations. He felt the familiar embarrassed tears swelling in his eyes, mortified just thinking about how indiscreet he had been. 

What was even more tormenting, though, was the overwhelming feeling of relief he had been consumed by when Lance showered him with affection. Until now, Keith was positive that the only attraction he had to Lance was physical. He had never had the desire to  _ date _ Lance, or to  _ love _ him, so why had knowing that Lance wanted him make Keith tremble with excitement? In the moment, he had been so overcome with happiness that he wanted to cry, but thinking about it now sent unnerved shivers down his spine. 

He splashed cold water on his face after a prolonged moment of confused self deprecation, mentally scolding himself for not being able to cope with this. Granted, even the idea of Lance being attracted to him sent his mind spiraling. 

_ He’s straight,  _ Keith thought to himself, getting increasingly frustrated by the second.  _ He’s  _ straight.  _ He’s always been straight. He’s a fuckboi. He’s a dude-bro guy. He hits on girls. He hits on Allura. We’re teammates, he makes fun of my hair, he insults me, he calls me mullet - he’s  _ straight. 

And yet he couldn’t ignore how comfortable Lance had been running his hands over Keith’s body, or how genuinely he had been calling Keith sexy, or how confidently he had stated that he wanted to...wanted to….

“Fuck,” Keith mumbled under his breath, tearing himself away from the mirror and stomping off to his bed irritatedly. Despite the emotional turmoil that filled his being, just thinking about Lance made his body burn with desire. And for the first time since they met, Keith detested imagining hot gay sex with Lance McClain.

 

21:00 (Altean Time - Noon) 

 

It was late, the light from the hallway seeping in through the crack underneath the door. Muffled conversation and laughter could be heard faintly from the kitchen. The room was dim; dust shimmering in the few beams of light that illuminated it. It was peaceful. It was serene. And in the middle of it all, Lance awoke, feeling like shit. 

“ ¿Qué diablos bebí? ” His voice was muffled and tired as he rubbed his eyes irritatedly. “Why won’t the light just shut up?”

Having wrapped himself in a cocoon of blankets, he rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. His mind was blank, he felt comfortable, and for the first time in a long time, he felt relaxed. That is, until an abrupt, and irritatingly repetitive knocking started at his door. 

“Lance,” he heard Pidge call in a monotone voice. “Lance. Lance. La-” 

“What do you want?” 

He heard the door open, followed by the scuffle of light footsteps approaching his bed. There was a moment of silence, and then a quiet whisper. “Laaance.” And then a small finger poking his cheek. 

“Pidge it’s like six am, goaway.” He shooed her hand off, still refusing to open his eyes. 

“More like noon.” 

“More like too early.” 

There was another moment of silence during which Lance felt a small weight sink onto the mattress beside him as Pidge sat down. “So,” she started, a smirk evident in her tone. “Why you so tired, huh?” 

“Cuz I drank weird space liquor, now let me sleep.” 

“Mhm, mhm, and it has nothing to do with someone who’s name rhymes with leaf?” 

Pidge chuckled when Lance sat up immediately and gave her the purest look of fear she’d ever seen. Though, the bedhead and dark circles under his eyes did it justice, too. 

“What? Say what? You mean Keith? What happened?” He realized instantly that he had no recollection of the previous night, and although he would never dream of it sober, he wouldn’t put it past himself to try something drunk...especially considering his newfound and confusing attraction to Keith.

“You don’t remember aaanything?” The grin that was plastered to her face made Lance’s skin crawl. 

“No! What should I be remembering? Pidge,” he grabbed her shoulders urgently, heart leaping into his throat. “ _ What should I be remembering _ ?” 

“Beats me.” 

“You’re joking, right?” He swallowed nervously when she brushed his hands away and fixed her shirt. “Did something actually happen?” 

“I dunno,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s what I came to ask you about, no need to get so worked up over it, jeez.”

Lance sighed out in disbelief, flopping back down to his pillow and running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, Pidge.” 

The two sat in silence, Pidge leaning against the wall and making herself comfortable while Lance rubbed his eyes. She stared at him with a patient, suspicious gaze, waiting for him to spill. She was certain  _ something _ had happened, but she wanted to know  _ what.  _

Lance, on the other hand, had completely abandoned any hope of regaining the relaxed peace he’d acquired. His mind was now once again filled with stressful, spiraling thoughts of Keith Kogane, worrying whether or not he’d done something in his shitfaced state that he’d horribly regret. 

“Pidge,” he spoke eventually, one of his arms draped over his eyes so he couldn’t see the shiteating smirk he knew would be decorating her face. “Can I trust you with a secret?” 

“No.” 

“I walked in on Keith….” 

“You walked in on him...cooking? Training? Crying?” 

Lance felt a lump of anxiety in his throat, realizing he had never said it out loud before. “A few weeks ago I walked in on him...y’know...getting off.” 

He looked up at Pidge’s delayed response, seeing her twist her face up in confused disgust. “Ew.” 

“That’s what I should’ve said.” 

“But,” She tilted her head to the side, hugging her knees into her chest. “You didn’t?” 

“No,” Lance mumbled. “Instead I just stood there and stared at him and stuttered, because he was making this  _ face _ , Pidge, with-with his  _ eyes  _ and his stupid mouth, and his voice, and now he’s all I think about, and I can’t get him out of my head!” 

“Sounds like someone has a cru-ush,” she sing songed.

“What?! No way! Pidge, are you hearing yourself right now?”

“All I’m saying is that you just described the definition of a crush.” 

“Did you come in here for a reason? Or was it just to torment me?” 

“We’re about to eat lunch, Shiro sent me to wake you up.” She jump up off the bed, making for the door only to turn around with a cocky head tilt. “If you hurry  _ Keith  _ might still be there.” 

“Vete a la mierda,” Lance mumbled as she strolled out of the room laughing to herself. He contemplated going back to sleep, and it was tempting. Very tempting. Possibly even tempting enough for him to do it. Sleeping the shame away sounded like a very. Good. Plan. 

 

22:00 (Altean Time: Afternoon) 

 

“Look who’s awake!” 

Lance scowled as Shiro, Hunk, and Allura all greeted him with teasingly enthusiastic smiles. The very first thing his eye was drawn to, however, was Keith...sitting quietly at the end of the table, brooding at his food goo.  _ So far nothing out of the ordinary in that department.  _

“What I would have given to see you drink a whole bottle of Sotilian cured blood!” Allura had to hold back laughter, eyes watering with effort. 

“Blood?” Lance questioned, feeling his stomach turn. 

“Oh yes, the bottle they gave you was over a century old! Probably extracted from a young sot-slug - very high concentration.”

It was as if Lance could feel the colour draining from his skin. “Slug...blood?” 

A wave of laughter erupted from the group, all except Keith, who was still brooding almost determinedly at his food goo. Once Lance managed to swallow the desire to vomit along with a sliver of his pride, he sat down at the table and served himself breakfast. 

“Eat up,” Allura smiled while Shiro shovelled even more food onto his plate. “You’ll need it to soak up the remaining-” 

“Please,” Lance interrupted, gripping a hand to his chest to avoid gagging. “Don’t say the B word.” 

“...toxins!” She finished with a smile. 

 

By the time Lance had packed as much goo into his stomach as it could handle, the table was nearly empty, except for Keith - who still had yet to relieve his food of the intense death stare he was giving it. What Lance  _ didn’t  _ know, was that Keith had stayed behind on purpose - then again, so had Lance. 

The two of them shared one sole topic on their mind; Lance’s memory of last night. And although they were itching to ask the question, the room stayed awkwardly silent, both listening a little too closely to the small voice in the back of their head that was begging them not to speak. Their hesitation seemed to freeze time, unaware that they had been sitting in silence for nearly half an hour, the question weighing on the tips of their tongues. 

It was when Keith finally looked up from his food to find Lance staring at him with calm, dazed eyes that they both blushed profusely and spoke at the same time. 

“So last night-” Silence fell upon them once more, each waiting for the other to continue. 

“I musta been pretty far-gone, huh?” Lance spoke eventually, a fretful smile attempting to mask his increasing heart rate. 

“Yeah...do you...uh...remember anything?” Keith’s gaze had returned to his food goo, unable to look at Lance without dirty distracting thoughts filling his head. 

“N-no, nothing at all, the last thing I remember is chilling in the lounge with you guys...why? Did something...happen?” 

Both boys were trying to sound discreet, and both were failing miserably. 

“Y….y...n...sorta?”

The familiar nervous twist returned to Lance’s stomach, only this time it was far more intense. For a brief second his voice caught in his throat, and he found himself more afraid of Keith knowing that he was attracted to him than anything else. 

“W...wHAt do you mean by ‘sorta’?” He hadn’t heard his voice crack like that since puberty. 

“I, um, took you to your room?” Keith started, phrasing each statement as a question, praying that Lance would remember and save him from having to say it out loud. “And then...you said you wanted to c...c-cuddle with me? And then….” 

When Keith glanced up at Lance and saw pure nerve wracking terror splayed across his expression, he stopped himself. Part of him wanted Lance to know, but the part of him that was terrified of Lance being disgusted, the part of him that anticipated such a response based on Lance’s face, the part of him that wanted to spare Lance and himself the grief of such disgust, was far more persuasive. And in a split second that felt like an eternity, Keith made his decision. 

“...And then when I said ‘no’ you started with this bad song in a terrible singing voice about something to do with being ‘loca’. I was embarrassed for you. You’re lucky I didn’t have Pidge’s camera.” 

Keith, had, in fact, heard Lance cringily singing about being ‘loca’ before. Because their rooms were beside each other, he often heard Lance belting outdated pop songs in the shower. As Lance didn’t know this, it made for a very convincing - and accurately embarrassing story. 

“Fuck you, Mullet, I have the singing voice of a majestic God -” Lance stopped himself mid sentence, having instinctively leaped to defend his musical inclinations. “Wait, that’s all that happened?” 

“Were you hoping for more?” 

“Not hoping...maybe expecting - nevermind, the point is, you don’t know good music  _ or  _ monumental singing when you hear it! If you think that Shakira is ‘bad’ music, you’ve got another thing coming!” 

Keith wanted to laugh - normally he would have - but the part of him that had wanted Lance to know about last night’s events was currently being crushed, along with any shred of hope he had left of ever reliving such events. And while Lance ranted about Shakira, the ‘goddess of music and bellydancing’, Keith felt his spirits sinking. He was repulsed by himself for even  _ hoping _ that the affection Lance had displayed could be real. He was crestfallen at the realization that he would probably never be able to share the intimate evening they’d had with Lance. Mostly, he was enraged by the thirst that tormented him while he watched Lance’s lips ranting about Shakira and was filled with the overwhelming need to kiss those lips despite the pain the thought of it caused him. 

_ I’m really despicable, _ he debased himself, not even hearing Lance’s words anymore: his mind too preoccupied imagining what those lips might have done to him had Lance stayed conscious.

 

23:00 (Altean Time - Afternoon)

Lance felt relieved. Not because he hadn’t hit on Keith, but because Keith didn’t know he wanted to. But as he finished his tangent about the kid’s horrible taste in music, he noticed the expression on Keith's face that made his heart flutter and his stomach backflip in a panic. 

It wasn’t an expression that could be described by an emotion, and to the eye of a third party, it wouldn’t look anything out of the ordinary. But something about the dazed hunger in Keith’s eye sent chills down Lance's spine: because in the back of his mind, Lance knew that in that moment he was nothing but prey, helpless to the discipline of his predator. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo 
> 
> Sorry this took so long...I have no excuse...I just didn't wanna until now, inspiration comes in spurts or whatever. But here ya go! Some more anxzty boyz
> 
> *Side note* Season 4 Matt is bae *end of side note*


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